


Rope

by Lyra_Sanzennine



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: BDSM, Figging, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rope Bondage, Smut, Whipping, angsty complicated emotions, pretty sure i'm incapable of writing non-ansty sex, sub!Gen, top!Seph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 08:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12295767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyra_Sanzennine/pseuds/Lyra_Sanzennine
Summary: Genesis sneers. “Kent is an idiot. And Lazard even more so for promoting him. He’s even worse than Angeal’s puppy. ” He steps further into the living space to stand defiantly before the general.Sephiroth clicks his tongue in disapproval, twisting the whip slightly between his palms. “A good leader takes responsibility for his subordinates. I thought I taught you better than that.”





	Rope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lilly_White](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilly_White/gifts).



> For Lilly_White. Because she drew and wrote this [piece of awesomeness ](http://lilly-white.tumblr.com/post/166109761285/lillywhiteart-it-starts-off-purely-physical-the) and issued a heartfelt plea for SephGenShibari. And friends don't let friends get blue balls for that sort of shit. 
> 
> My first M/M piece ever. AND my first consensual BDSM piece ever! I think that's considered character growth?

 

 

 

 

It’s the only way Genesis can have him, so he plays the game.

He unlocks the door to Sephiroth’s penthouse suite and lets himself in. His commanding officer is sitting in the living room, in his favorite chair, illuminated by the late afternoon sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Sephiroth’s wearing tight fitting black leather pants and nothing else. A black leather flogger, tipped in red, rests in his hands.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?” he asks, his voice strong and clear. As though this were any other meeting between them at HQ. As though he hadn’t deliberately let one of the new 2nd Class SOLDIERs get a little damaged in the last mission to Fort Condor due to a tactical “oversight.”

“What happened with 2nd Class Kent – that was very sloppy of you,” Sephiroth says with that deep rumble that never fails to send shivers up Genesis’s body.

Genesis sneers. “Kent is an idiot. And Lazard even more so for promoting him. He’s even worse than Angeal’s puppy. ” He steps further into the living space to stand defiantly before the general.

Sephiroth clicks his tongue in disapproval, twisting the whip slightly between his palms. “A good leader takes responsibility for his subordinates. I thought I taught you better than that.”

“Is that why I’m here then?” Genesis asks, looking down at Sephiroth, trying not to tremble in anticipation. “So that you might _take responsibility_ for my sloppiness? _My friend, your desire / Is the bringer of life, the gift of the Goddess._ ”

“Hmph. Loveless, Act Three.” Sephiroth knows all of Genesis’s favorite quotes now. They’ve played some version of this scene so many times. “Though I’ve always thought myself more God than Goddess.”

“Well,” Genesis shrugs elegantly, still staring down with a haughty expression on his face, “It’s hard to tell from the back.”

Sephiroth doesn’t respond for a moment. Just appraises his commander for a long moment, raking his gaze up and down to take in the familiar sight. Of that tight black uniform beneath all that gleaming red leather. His eyes linger on the buckles of Genesis’s belt.

“Take off your clothes,” he finally says, in the voice of a general who expects to be obeyed.

Genesis’s mouth twitches slightly before he regains control of his face. “Yes, Sir.”

He shrugs out of his coat and tosses it carelessly to the side to land on the couch. Long, nimble fingers make quick work of his belt and armor straps. The black turtleneck joins his coat and he bends down to slowly unzip his tall black leather boots, all the while continuing to stare insolently at the other man.

Pants and briefs discarded, he stands naked as the day he was born, unashamedly displaying himself before his general. The sunlight casts soft shadows in the valleys between his corded muscles and his cock twitches, already partially plump in anticipation.

Sephiroth stands up and leaves the flogger on the seat of his chair. Genesis doesn’t know how anything fits in those leather pants, but somehow Sephiroth produces a blindfold from one of the pockets anyway.

Sephiroth hands it to Genesis with that cold, arrogant look in his eyes, and Genesis takes it. He thinks for a moment what it would feel like to throw the blindfold to the ground and grab Sephiroth by the shoulders. Just grind his mouth against those conceited lips and shove the larger man to the floor.

But he tried that once, long ago, and Sephiroth had just thrown him out. Physically hauled him to the door and shoved him out of it, then tossed his things at him while Genesis gaped in brokenhearted disbelief.

If one wanted to play with the Silver General, one played by the Silver General’s rules. It was simple as that.

Genesis puts the blindfold on and waits.

Sephiroth moves like a wildcat. Silent, ferocious predator that he is. Genesis doesn’t know where he is in the room anymore, or what he’s doing.

Then he feels the rough coils of the rope caressing his cheek. He can smell the earthy hemp. He knows the strands are long and red and perfect, malleable and soft, because Sephiroth cut, dyed, and treated them himself, aggravating perfectionist that he is.

Sephiroth’s hot breath is in his ear and he whispers, “Hands behind your back, Commander.”

Genesis shivers and feels himself harden as he moves to obey.

Large, strong hands brush against his neck, his shoulders, his ribs, as Sephiroth skillfully loops the rope around his upper torso. He feels the general wrap the coils around and around between his shoulder blades before Sephiroth begins to wind the hemp around his upper arms, just a few inches above his elbows. Criss cross and around. Down to his forearms. Down to his wrists. Around and around.

Genesis flexes experimentally. Nothing budges. Sephiroth is a master of knots and twine. All those carefully wound loops, stacked perfectly against each other, are too much for even a SOLDIER First Class to rip apart.

Genesis knows he’s at the general’s mercy. And that’s okay. He trusts Sephiroth with his life, with his body. This exasperating man whose control never cracks, whose war strategies and battle tactics are as flawless as his alabaster skin.

Sephiroth guides Genesis a few feet forward. “On your knees, Commander,” Sephiroth purrs.

Genesis drops to one knee, then the other, and feels Sephiroth’s hand on his back, pushing him forward and down until his body is draped over the coffee table. Sephiroth caresses him in a way that says unequivocally, that all this skin beneath his fingers is his territory. And Genesis knows that it doesn’t matter how many other men or women he fucks, Sephiroth is the only one who will ever matter.

This man that he wants completely. That he completely wants to be.

And then the general’s gone again and all Genesis can hear is a rustle from the direction of the kitchen. He bites his lower lip, half in aggravation, half in agonizing need. After too many long, silent minutes, Sephiroth returns – even with his enhanced hearing, Genesis can barely tell when Sephiroth enters the room again.

Something hard, cold and wet presses against his ass, and Genesis gasps at the sensation.

“Open,” Sephiroth says, in that voice deeper than sin.

Genesis relaxes and the phallus suddenly slips into his body. It’s hardly the largest thing he’s ever taken. Certainly smaller than Sephiroth’s cock, but it feels alien. Not as smooth as what he’s used to.

Minutes tick by. Genesis starts to wonder what the fuck Sephiroth is up to.

Then the slow burn starts. A glimmer of heat deep in his ass that steadily ramps up until he’s squirming and panting. He pulls against his bonds.

The crack of the whip against his bare ass shocks him into bumping sharply against the table’s edge. Genesis grunts as his automatic reaction – to clench his glutes at the sensation – intensifies the burning in his ass.

“What the fuck did you put in me?” Genesis rasps.

“Ginger,” Sephiroth responds, striking him again.

Hot pain blossoms along Genesis’s backside and he can’t help but wriggle in response. He clenches again and groans.

“Now, I want to hear the right words on your lips, Commander,” Sephiroth says. “I want to hear you beg me for mercy.”

Genesis moans, pressing his forehead into the cool surface of the table. The sting of the ginger juice in his body is the background torment between each sharp crack of leather against his ass and thighs. SOLDIER discipline doesn’t do much to help prevent him from clamping down every time Sephiroth strikes him.

“ _Infinite in mystery –_ ugh _– is the gift of the goddess-”_

“Loveless, Act One,” Sephiroth responds. Genesis can hear the slight smile in his voice. “Is that what this is, Genesis? My gift to you?” Sephiroth’s hands are suddenly in Genesis’s hair, gripping, tugging to the side, baring his neck. Sephiroth licks a line up his throat. “How does the next line go? _The wandering soul knows no rest?_ Well, Commander, I will give you your rest. Just say the right words.”

Sephiroth’s fingers are tugging at his taut nipples. His teeth are buried in the juncture between neck and shoulder. Genesis writhes beneath him, grinding back against the man’s body and then hisses again at how the motion increases the torment in his ass.

Genesis is lost to the sensations. To the feeling of warm leather against his side. The rough scratch of hemp against his arms and ribs. He knows he would do anything, say anything, for this man. He would be anything. Become anything.

_To become the dew that quenches the land / To spare the sands, the seas, the skies /I offer thee this silent sacrifice_

Sephiroth’s lips are against his ear again, demanding, imploring. His hands are wrapped around Genesis’s cock.

Genesis can’t remember. Can’t think. It’s all a floating haze of burning pain and aching need and his heart feels like it’s going to explode. What does Sephiroth want to hear? Apologies for a job done poorly? Groveling for a job executed beneath the standards of the Silver General? Genesis can’t think about that now. Can barely remember who Kent is or what the fuck he even let happen to the kid.  All he can think about is Sephiroth with the starlight hair that never got in his face. With the hands that had taken thousands of lives and yet somehow never sustained a single visible scar. Sephiroth with that fucking Masamune which didn’t even make sense and shouldn’t exist in the world, but somehow the man wielded it with such precision and deadly accuracy that Genesis gets weak at the knees each time he watches him duel.

In the end, he has no idea what he says. All sorts of nonsense probably pours out of him as Sephiroth leaves teeth marks all over his body. What he does hear himself saying is, “I’m yours. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”

Sephiroth lets him go and Genesis collapses against the table again. Lash after lash shatters the silence, underpinned by the quiet grunts Genesis can’t quite contain. He has no fucking idea how the fucking man knows, but as soon as the burning from the ginger starts to fade, Sephiroth stops and pulls Genesis to his feet. He walks him over to a different spot in the living room.

And then he’s gone again, and Genesis just stands there, trembling, sweat slowly drying on his brow.

 

.               .               .

 

Sephiroth pours himself a scotch and returns to his favorite chair. Genesis is standing where he left him, against the bare wall, feet planted shoulder width apart. The orange rays of the setting sun bathe him in a warm glow, lighting up his fiery hair and highlighting the crimson rope wound around his body.

He regards his handiwork as he leisurely sips his drink. The way the crisscrossed coils frame Genesis’s neck and pectorals. The lines of pink along his hips and thighs where the whip wrapped around to the front of Genesis’s body.

The tedium of office work was bearable when he could come home on evenings like this, to enjoy a drink and admire his wall art.

 

.               .               .

 

After goddess knows how long standing there (and Genesis isn’t even entirely sure Sephiroth’s still in room at this point), Sephiroth finally bends Genesis back over the table, takes the spent ginger root out of his ass, and fucks him. Genesis screams himself hoarse at the pain and pleasure. Sephiroth fills him completely, drives into his aching, swollen ass mercilessly, pumps Genesis’s cock in his hand.  

In the end, there’s cum dripping down Genesis’s thighs and smeared all over his stomach, and he’s panting and delirious. Sephiroth cleans them up silently and efficiently, undoes Genesis’s bondage, and carries him into the bedroom.

Sephiroth must have noticed something in Genesis’s heavy lidded blue eyes – the way Genesis gazed at him through the haze of subspace euphoria – because after Sephiroth deposits Genesis on the mattress, he walks over to the ottoman at the foot of the bed, the one where all the implements are stored, and retrieves a shorter length of dark red rope. This one just a few feet long. Wordlessly, he brings Genesis’s hands together in front of his body and binds his wrists together using simple, repeated loops and a bowline knot.

When he’s finished, Genesis flexes his wrists. There’s no give and no accidental tightening. Sephiroth knows his way around a rope, and being bound like this after being so thoroughly fucked leaves Genesis feeling safe, kept, content.

As he feels the call of sleep begin to take him, Genesis thinks that one day, someday, he will see Sephiroth with his hair disheveled and his eyes unfocused, begging for release. One day he would unman this creature who thought himself a god. One day he would hold the chain.

But for now, he’s content to lie there on his side, wrists bound with dark red rope, and be the little spoon.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So....how was that for consensual M/M BDSM erotica? Let me know if you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Shameless plug time: if you like Sephiroth here, you may like my current main work [Shevirat ha-Kelim.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12053076/chapters/27293796) Except it is an AeriSeph abduction (noncon/dubcon) story. So maybe not. But this story is where all of my Sephiroth headcannons are going. :)


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